The Formidable

39

The club was packed. There were seven girls working. Suited men sat at tables, wolf-whistling and calling to the women swaying their hips flirtatiously in an attempt to receive the most tips.

Sasha was on the bar with another barman. Jase eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he, too, was one of Mickey's cronies. With a roll of his eyes, Jase decided it wasn't worth the time worrying if he could trust Madison about how sage he was with her dad around. He was sure everything was out in the open now and m, though he was still pissed it had taken Madison so long to come clean, there was a sense of relief.

"Usual?" Sasha asked as he took up a stool at the end of the bar. Jase nodded. She poured his drink and placed it on a napkin in front of him. "Is this another one of those nights?" she asked, referring to the night Jase had gotten drunk in his office.

"No, I just came for the one," he replied, taking a sip. She carried on polishing glasses and serving customers.

Jase surveyed the club. It was almost at full capacity. Anyone in there could be watching him. He hated that feeling, not knowing who was feeding what back to whom. For all he knew, Caspar was in there, sitting in one of the booths tossing twenties at the dancers.

My dad killed him

It looped in his head like a broken record. He had meant what he said, about not caring that Mickey had killed his dad. There really weren't any hard feelings. But he was unsettled by Mickey's reach. Madison hadn't even known that Lily was in his pocket, that's how discrete he was and to get something past Madison was a feat in itself. But then, who else could get anything past her with as much ease as the person who taught her everything she knew? He was the reason she had the mindset of a hardened criminal; she'd been raised by one.

"You look rough," Sasha said, pushing a tall glass up against the Grey Goose hanging upside down behind the bar. The alcohol dribbled into the highball.

"It's been a long day," Jase replied. He wouldn't usually mind talking to Sasha. He never divulged the things that were really stressing him out but he'd ask her about the club and she'd ask how Sam was and how work was going. But he didn't want a conversation. He wanted space to think and to give Madison the space to calm down. Though he wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to think about or even if he had the energy to do so. He was exhausted, his head was a blur with a suspicious pulsing hinting at an incoming headache.

After roughly twenty minutes of being at the club, one of the dancers sashayed over and asked Sasha for a glass of water. Her eyes drifted to Jase in the corner, his eyes glossing over the room at nothing in particular. They didn't move to her when she took a few steps closer.

"Good evening, boss," she greeted sweetly. He looked at her briefly, acknowledging her presence before his attention returned to the rest of the room. "You look tense, honey. You want some help unwinding?" the dancer asked.

"No," he replied bluntly.

"Come on. All work and no play makes Jase a very dull boy," she watched him with half-lidded eyes, leaning forward on the bar to ensure he had a liberal view of her cleavage. He looked at her again. Specifically, the full breasts spilling out of the lace bra she was wearing. Her brunette hair brushed past them, a curtain ready to be pulled back for the show.

"Get back on the floor or go home, I won't tell you again," he said. The girl pouted, returning to entertaining the clientele.

"You'd think they'd learn," Sasha laughed. Jase hummed. As he watched his business flourish, he thought about how boring it had all become. How little he cared about anything that went on under the roof of his club or the house. He needed a reason to get out.

"How's Madison?" Sasha asked.

His attention snapped around. Eyes narrowed. "How do you know about Madison?"

Sasha shrugged. "Everyone talks to the barmaid."

"Sasha, you don't talk about her, not to anyone, understood?" he said, his demeanour changing from bored to serious. Sasha nodded.

"Sure thing, sorry." There was still half a glass of brandy on the bar but Jase felt its cloudiness softening him enough to know he'd had enough. He needed to get back to Madison and Mia. If he had any reason to get away from his current lifestyle, it was them. Now he felt like shit for leaving on a sour note.

Without saying goodbye to Sasha, he grabbed his jacket and left, jogging up the stairs. As he walked down the dark road down the side of the club, a road he'd walked down a million times before, a heavy feeling came over his shoulders.
There was a static energy behind him. He was being followed.

And he had no weapons on him after meeting Mickey, he had left the office room in such a huff with Madison that he'd forgotten to retrieve his gun. Slowly, he stopped walking.

"I know you're there," he said. No reply. He sighed, slipping his hands in his pockets, and turned around. Two men stood in the shadows, barely visible. "And who do you work for?" Jase asked, about reaching the end of his tether at this point.

"Relax, we're just here to tell you that Mickey wants to see you. Now." Jase rolled his eyes. He wanted so badly to tell them to fuck off but even in his current mind frame, he knew it wasn't wise to refuse someone like Mickey. If he wanted to see Jase then he would see him, with or without consent.

Jase took out his cigarettes again, accepting that he'd taken up the bad habit once more. He lit it as the men stepped into the light. He didn't recognise either of them. Jase took a drag. "Your car or mine?"